


Theres No Rules To How Death May Come Find Me

by Mei_MyselfandI



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Anxiety, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Panic Attacks, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-07 23:45:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11069574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mei_MyselfandI/pseuds/Mei_MyselfandI
Summary: Alexander missing.No one can find him.





	1. Calm Before The Storm

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a little something to get me back into writing. I wanted to try a few things blah blah.. This is just practice I wasn't planning on really posting it but I did anyway so idk if I'll continue, cause I gotta work on the other fic! 
> 
> (Title taken from "Find Me" by TeZATalks)
> 
> This is like barely edited read at your own risk!

His eyes fluttered open as he groaned pushing himself up, to sit up on the bed. He grabbed his phone off the nightstand. It was only seven, thank God. He opened the messaging app clicking the first contact.

 

Thomas: Did you get home okay?

 

His lips curled upward in annoyance when he didn't get an answer. He knew Hamilton was up, he was always up. But, he seemed really tired yesterday, he looked like a dead man walking, the bag under his eyes turning an almost purplish black and posture shitter than normal.

 

Whatever.

 

Thomas: I’ll see you at work. Txt me if you want anything from the Schuyler's Cafe.

 

Jefferson let his phone drop back on the nightstand and stood up stretching grabbing his a purple shirt out of the clothes and plain black slacks heading into the shower. Thinking nothing of Alex not responding. He took a relatively quick shower, stood in front of the foggy mirror while he brushed his teeth and preened at his hair, and then put on his clothes. Thomas walked out grabbing his phone again, still seeing no response typed out a few question marks and hit send.

 

And, slid the phone into his back pocket. He was sure that at the mention of the cafe, that would get him, but he guessed not. Maybe, Alex was still sleeping. Thomas chuckled underneath his breath at that. Yea, right. He grabbed his briefcase, and picked up all the papers that scattered the floor, and stuffed them in neatly inside. He looked around for his signature magenta coat finding it missing, then quickly remembered he gave it Alex last night, great. He just hoped his dumb boyfriend didn’t ruin it.

 

Thomas opened the door and walked out, locking it closed, and jumped in his car. Alexander always argued that it was dumb to have a car when they lived in New York, but Thomas didn’t care, it was much easier than having to take public transportation, not to mention how unsafe it was, and dirty. And, even when Thomas offered to drive Alex too and from work he still said no, stubborn little shit. Yet, even so, he found himself smiling while thinking about the antics of his tiny boyfriend.

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

John walked into the kitchen, seeing Lafayette at the stove, probably cooking some fancy French food again.

 

“Where’s Alex?” He asked, yawning throwing his hands over his head to stretch them out.

 

“Hmm.” Lafayette smirked, and John knew exactly what he was going to say, “He never came home last night, I can only assume that he spent the night at Thomas’s.” The Frenchman said as he wriggled his eyebrows, “But I can ask Thomas, to make sure if you like?”

 

“Tch.” John growled, “Don’t bother.”

 

Even at the mention, his name John got pissed. Fucking Thomas Jefferson. Laurens didn’t get what the hell Alexander sees in him. He was an egotistical, arrogant, self-centered, wealthy-bragging, southern asshole. Just the mere thought of him made John want to hurl. Alex used to have the same mindset, he used to be on John's side, until Lafayette, got the great idea to invite Jefferson and Madison to get drinks with them, and after that, something had changed.

 

Whatever.

 

“What are you making?”

 

“Crêpes.”

 

“Sounds good.” John mumbled as he fumbled with cup trying to make some coffee.

 

“You know, mon cher, maybe you should talk to Alex about--”

 

“No!” John hissed, his grip on the glass tightening.

 

Lafayette sighed dishing out their food, “It's obvious you're upset, and it will do nobody good if you're sad every time you see Alex and Thomas together.”

 

“I don’t care.”

 

“If you keep this up, you’ll make Alexander have to choose.”

 

“That's fine with me.”

 

“How are so sure he’ll choose you?”

 

John felt a sudden pain in his chest.

 

“He would.” Alex would never-- would he? Would he choose Jefferson over him?

 

No.

 

No way.

 

He was Alex’s best friend, yet he still felt the gaping hole in his chest filled with underlying doubt. He felt Laf’s hands curl into his and the taller man’s forehead gently bumped against his.

 

“Promise me.”

 

“I can’t--”

 

“Promise you’ll talk to him.”

 

“Fine.”

 

“Thank you, mon cher.” Laf gave him a soft smile and leaned down to kiss him, like a balloon John deflated, all his anger seeping out like escaped air through a tiny fissure, and leaned up to meet the Frenchman halfway. “Now let’s go eat food getting cold.”

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

Thomas walked in greeting Samuel at the desk and headed towards the elevator. He pressed his floor number and leaned against the wall taking out his phone.

 

Still no answer.

 

What the hell?

 

It wasn’t like Alexander to ignore him for this long. Maybe he fell asleep at his desk? The idiot, probably did, hopefully, he did. The doors opened and Thomas walked down the hallway, speeding up, letting his anxieties get the better of him. Alex was fine why was he so worried? He reached Hamilton’s office pushing the door open not bothering not knock.

 

“What the--” Thomas muttered to himself.

 

He wasn’t there.

 

Alexander wasn’t there.

 

Thomas walked up to his desk. No phone. No bag. No coffee cup. No nothing.

 

What the fuck?

 

He turned around and walked out then stopped abruptly.

 

“Thomas.” Washington smiled at him, “Good, just the man I was looking for.”

 

“Sir.” Thomas paused trying to calm himself down, “What do you need?”

 

“Have you seen Hamilton anywhere? He hasn't come in yet, despite my efforts, I can't help but worry.”

 

Jefferson eyes widened as he stared silently at his boss, shocked, “No, no, I haven't seen him at all today, he hasn't been answering any of my texts either.”

 

Washington's brows furrowed in hidden worry.“Then where the hell is he?”

Jefferson willed himself to calm down. He took a deep breath and dialed Lafayette’s number hoping for the best.

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

Lafayette phone ranged next to him and his eyebrows raised when he saw who was calling. It seemed John noticed too if his consistent glaring was anything to go by.

 

“I swear if you--”

 

“John.” He stayed silent and continued to glare at Lafayette and his phone his eyes flickering back and forth.

 

He sighed putting his phone on mute. Thomas could wait a few minutes.

 

“Thank you.” John muttered and Lafayette smiled at him.

 

“Anything for you.” John’s cheeks turned red and the Frenchman laughed at how easy it was to fluster him. He turned back towards his plate and his smile fell. He couldn’t help but wonder about the phone call, Thomas rarely ever called him throughout the day, despite his persistence that he should.  Whatever it was it could wait.

 

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

 

“He’s not answering.” Thomas looked over at Washington.

It was always hard to tell with him. His face was always blank, he would let nothing show on the surface. Instead it would through his words, through his actions, the way he stood, held himself. And, right now for the first time in his life, Washington posture broke. It was just a little, a centimeter small, but it was there.

“Go over there and check. I’ll call Martha asks if she's seen him.”

 

Thomas nodded giving him a quick goodbye and by the time he knew it was out the doors of the company. A slight breeze hit him on the way out, the sun shined gently and blue overtook the sky not one speck of white.

 

It such a nice day.

 

There were no dark looming clouds, no heavy drops of rain, no nothing. And Thomas felt himself get irrationally angry as he entered his car putting into drive. He knew it was stupid to get mad at the weather of all things, but he couldn’t help it. Everything was so nice outside and everything shining and happy. While his life was quickly spiraling out of control, out of his grasp, festering and building, into something that would eventually all boilover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you thought? How was it? I’ve been having trouble writing lately like everything I do is literal shit


	2. And Don't You Fall, When It Feel Like Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They walk inside, Washington and Martha are there trying to calm Thomas down, the Schuyler sisters are there as well, Eliza looks well near and dear to tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, so I am continuing this! 
> 
> So get excited!
> 
> TW in tags 
> 
> (Btw, I did change my username caused started feeling more comfortable with Ao3, from hikacat to mei_myselfandi if you're confused. So it's still me but with a new name, so if you ever wanna address me I go by Mei!)
> 
> All comments and kudos are appreciated very much!

John’s head snaps toward the door, as someone bangs on it making the door handle itself  _ rattle _ . He jumps up from his chair and runs to the doorway fumbling with the locks until he finally opens the door. He sneers as Jefferson stands there, looking nervous, his clothes slightly rumpled. 

 

“Why the fuck are you here, Jefferson?” John hisses, trying his best to sound menacing because Alex isn’t here and he doesn’t have to play nice. Jefferson ignores him pushing past him and it makes John even more pissed off, because who the hell does he think he is? He looks around, his head moving back and forth before he finally even turns to acknowledge John. 

 

“Where is he?” He says quickly, fast and out-of-breath like he just ran a mile, but John knows he didn’t because his expensive Mercedes is parked somewhere outside. 

 

“Where is who, Jefferson?” John asks and then adds just be a shit, “And calm yourself, you're gonna give yourself a stroke--but hey I’d be all for that.” Again Jefferson ignores the taunt like it was nothing.

 

“Where is Alex?” And, now John’s really confused because what does he mean, _ ‘Where is Alex’ _ ? 

 

“What the hell are you talking about, wasn’t he at your place?” Finally, Lafayette decides to show up, because in this current situation John knows he’d be the calmest and that's what they need right now. 

 

“What is going on?” He asks, his wet hair pulled back in a bun, to keep it from dripping on his work clothes. 

 

Jefferson makes a sharp turn to face Lafayette and John almost visibly winces at the amount of  _ desperation _ in his voice.

 

“Where is Alex? He’s apparently not here, not at work, Washington hasn’t seen him, I texted Angelica on the way here he isn’t at the cafe, he's not answering my texts, and I can't find him and I’m freaking it out, Lafayette, _ Where is he _ ?” 

 

“Woah, Woah, calmez-vous, okay, assis-toi, alors parle.” Lafayette says in French, and John can't help himself and feels a little left out because he can feel himself start to sweat, his hands growing warm, butterflies forming in his stomach--because what does Jefferson mean he can't find Alex? 

 

The two sit down on the couch and Jefferson buries his face in his hands. John sits down next to Lafayette and for once in his life keeps quiet. 

 

“What the hell is going on, Thomas?” Lafayette asks, straight to the point. 

 

“I-I I can’t find Alex.” He chokes out desperate, sounding close to tears. And, Lafayette leans back, poised, calm, but John can see the way his brow is furrowed and his lips are curled, he’s  _ scared _ . 

 

“And you’ve talked to everyone--” 

 

“Yes!” Jefferson interrupts him, “No one knows--this was my last resort and he’s not here.” 

 

Lafayette sighs his hands run across his face pushing any stray away hairs back. “I-I am at a lost.” 

 

John watches Jefferson hunch over resting elbows on his knees his face buried in his hands, “Loss.” he says. 

 

“What?” Lafayette replies. 

 

He lifts his face from his hands and throws his back against the couch and John thinks he can see small water droplets in his eyes. 

 

“We are at a loss.” 

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


“What the hell are you doing?!” John yells because his boyfriend is still  _ leisurely  _ sitting on the couch sipping a cup of coffee--while their best friend is  _ missing _ . Even,  _ Jefferson _ has taken _ some _ initiative and went to go call Washington to alert him of the news. 

 

“What,” Lafayette starts and John gets ready to interrupt him but he continues, “What would you like me to do?” 

 

“I-I I don’t maybe get the fuck up and go look for him?!” John yells louder, Laf’s monotone, calm,  _ apathetic _ voice just keeps riling him up even more, “You're just sitting sipping your coffee like--like you don’t even give a shit!” 

 

“Tea-it's tea.” Lafayette mumbles underneath his breath then puts his cup down, “And, just where do you suggest we start looking, hmm, John? Do you know where to even begin? Would you like to just go out in the street aimlessly screaming Alexander‘s name?” 

 

“That's better than nothing, Lafayette!” 

 

“What good would that do!? Besides, waste our time and energy that we could devote it to something more useful liking finding information. We don’t know how long's he been gone--his phone could just be off for god sakes. Right now, John, you need to sit the fuck down and calm down,  _ please.”  _

 

John clenches his teeth, opening his mouth then closing it, like a fish out of water. He crosses his arms and leans on the wall behind him.

 

“I am worried too you know.” The Frenchman says quietly. 

 

John sighs,“I know--I’m sorry.” He hates arguing with Laf, hates the prospect of even yelling at his boyfriend. It leaves him with sharp, stabbing guilt, that's all consuming and drowning. But still, he can’t shake the feeling in his chest, “I just--What if he’s been kidnapped or-or worse.” 

 

“John.” Lafayette says in a warning tone, “We don’t know that. You're thinking up the worst case scenario in your mind and it's making you worry.” Laf’s phone starts to ring as soon as the balcony door opens and Jefferson walks in, head down, shadows covering his features. 

 

John has never seen him this way, never seen so much emotion, never thought he was  _ capable _ . He walks over and sits on the chair diagonal from Lafayette. And, it's like they switch places because then Lafayette goes on the balcony to answer his phone. 

 

And, Jefferson and he are alone. 

 

And John starts, “Are you serious?” He knows what Laf said had its merits, but they couldn’t--he couldn’t just sit here and do  _ nothing. _

 

“What,  _ Laurens _ ?” And, there it is, the sharp disdain in his voice, the growing hatred, the animosity between them finally exposing itself, like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Jefferson sends him a glare and John feels his emotions boiling. He’s scared and he’s nervous and he’s confused, but most of all he’s angry. 

 

Angry at what? 

 

Everything? 

 

The world maybe? But he can’t scream at the world. But, he  _ can _ scream at Jefferson, without any residual guilt. 

 

“You just gonna sit here too?” John ticks his nose up at him because if there is one thing he knows it's that he’s better than Jefferson. Jefferson gets up and walking towards him, the height difference is there, plain as day, but it doesn't phase him. 

 

Jefferson looks down at him, sneers, and hisses, like the fucking snake John knows he is, “Don’t fucking talk to me. Don’t fucking stick your nose up at me like you're something special, like your better. Because, you know what, Laurens, you're not. You think just because you're playing hero you're better than me. Stop trying to justify your actions when they accomplish nothing.” 

 

John leans in close until he can see the red hot anger in Jefferson's eyes, his breath on his face, “Still and as always you're a goddamn hypocrite. You tell me to stop justifying myself when you're doing the same damn thing. You're trying to justify your actions by saying mine won’t help!” Laurens takes a step back. He’s not gonna lie when he says this feels good. He loves a good fight, usually, he prefers them physical, but verbal takes the edge of too. It lets him forget about his problems, about his jumbled mess of emotions, lets him focus on one thing and one thing only, being right, winning,  _ fighting _ . “You're not even willing to try, Jefferson.  _ I thought you said you loved him, proving me right?  _ I always knew you were no good for him. _ ”  _

 

And Jefferson’s composure breaks, John can see right before his eyes, like watching glass break in slow motion. He lunges at him fast and hard, his hands find their way around John’s collar and his back is slammed back against the wall behind him. Jefferson’s eyes are wide and John thinks he can see tears, but his vision is blurry from his head smacking the back of the wall.

 

“You piece of fucking shit-- _ how dare you _ ?” His voice sounds almost demonic in its rage and John revels in it. He shoves Jefferson away putting a good couple of inches between them. 

 

He laughs straight in Jefferson's faces, adding fuel to the flame, making it spiral into a full-blown fire, “I’m right aren’t I?” Jefferson reaches for him and John does the same. Their momentum crashes as they reach each other, in a jumble of fists. John goes down first a burning pain in his stomach, but he gets back up to his feet using a running start to tackle Jefferson to the floor. 

 

The coffee table crashes, making a loud clattering sound that rings through his ears. He takes the moment of shock to get in as many hits as he can before he’s thrown aside. John feels his back slam into the back of the couch, and he knows Jefferson's over him when he feels a fist connecting with his nose. 

 

John starts to giggle when he meets Jefferson’s eyes and stares at him head-on and says, “Is that all you got?” 

  
  
  


_ \--- _

  
  
  
  


“Alright, Monsieur Washington. Just call me if you find anything?” Lafayette pauses and listens as to what George was saying. “Okay, I’ll see you, goodbye.” Lafayette hangs up the phone, his head falls back to rest on the glass behind him, admiring the clear blue sky. 

 

It was such a nice day. 

 

He shakes his head and opens the door to go back inside. 

 

To say the least, he was not expecting to find his house in such a complete disarray. The three chairs on the island were completely knocked over as if someone had slammed into them. He stepped over some glass shards that were littered across the pristine hardwood-- _ was that a dent?  _ Gilbert crouches down to inspect the floor and yes indeed it was a dent, of how, however, he begins to form an idea in his head. So when he arrives in the living room he wasn’t as thoroughly surprised to see John and Thomas with matching nose bleeds and newly formed bruises. 

 

“You're kidding me, right?” He says so quietly it was almost a whisper, but it was enough to get their attention and rather quickly as well. They both turn to look at him, shocked maybe a little ashamed, they should be. “I can’t believe you two,” John opens his mouth as if to say something--apologies maybe, but Lafayette doesn’t want to hear, doesn’t  _ need _ to hear it, “Be quiet, John.” He sighs and shakes his head, “You two fighting like children,  _ for what!?”  _ He sees John Finch and Thomas straighten his back, they look almost afraid,  _ good _ , “This is ridiculous--I-I can’t.” He’s tired and he’s scared and anxious, his emotions are a mess, but he tries his best to keep it together. 

 

He trying his best because he’s the one they're relying on to do that. 

 

There’s no point in yelling. 

 

Yelling, won't solve anything, besides raise tensions. So he sits down, his coffee table is rolled over on its side on the other side of the room, his favorite cup is upside down, his tea spilled all over the floor-- _ what a mess _ . He stares at it all and then he looks at John and then he looks at Thomas, and he understands. 

 

He really does. 

 

They're both going crazy with worry, John doesn’t know what to do with it so he fights, and Thomas reciprocates. It almost reminds him of before Alexander and Thomas got together, but that wasn’t fighting per say, they never had any real hatred for each other. That was all just confusing feelings and lust wrapped together and made to look like hatred. 

 

But what Thomas and John have, it's real. It's real animosity between them, hatred in it's purest form and yet he can never find the real reason for it. He slumps against the back of the couch, “John sit down. Thomas bring me the medicine kit.” They move quickly, John has the right mind to sit in the lone seat away from him, because Lafayette was utmost certain he would have slapped him, and Thomas whisks away into the kitchen to get the kit. 

 

Thomas comes back with the med kit and he gets started on cleaning these two idiots up. 

  
  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


It's was around nine when he gets the call from Washington. 

 

_ “We found something, come quick, to the police station.”  _

 

Once Thomas hears the news he was out of the house faster than any of them. He doesn’t say anything, not even goodbye just runs out the house and into his car. Lafayette can hear it speeding away--no doubt going faster than the legal limit. 

 

John is next by the door, waiting on him, Lafayette can see his frame shivering, but not from the cold. They step out the house together and Gilbert heads into the driver's seat and John jumps into the passenger seat, and they're off. 

 

During the ride, neither say a word to each other, he still furious and John seems to have lost his courage or maybe he feels too guilty to say anything, either of which was fine by him. They arrive at the station, and he can already see Thomas inside arguing with a cop, Alexander has rubbed off on him far too much. They walk inside, Washington and Martha are there trying to calm Thomas down, the Schuyler sisters are there as well, Eliza looks well near and dear to tears. 

 

“What’s going on?” He hears John asks, the worry in his voice is tight and controlled. Washington sighs and Lafayette notes that his eyes look rather red, Martha’s as well.

 

He asks carefully, his voice shaking a little, “Do you all remember George King?” 

  
  


  
  


  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo? 
> 
> What did you think?
> 
> Tell me in the comments! 
> 
> This obviously won't be as quickly updated since ILWAG is still my main focus, but it will be updated from time to time. 
> 
> hit me up: on my [tumblr](https://meimyselfandi.tumblr.com/) i post sneak peaks, art and other stuff too!


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